


And Leave Not a Rack Behind

by hesterbyrde



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Dubious Consent, F/M, Mind Control, Past Clint Barton/Laura Barton, Past Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Weird Sex, dub con, implied lots of people, wanda's powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 22:52:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4239699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesterbyrde/pseuds/hesterbyrde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can see why you like it up here.” she said when he was in earshot.</p><p>“And why is that?” he asked, leaning on the balcony rail beside her. She didn't fail to notice that he left a solid arm's length of space between them.</p><p>She gave a small shrug. “Perspective.” she answered simply, her accent curling around the word like a snake. “You can see it all in context. Up close, what amounts to small details can become the entirety of your view. One person. One conversation. One interaction. But from here... they're all like little gears in a watch. And you can't tell what time it is if you're only staring at one gear.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We are such stuff as dreams are made on...

**Author's Note:**

> Well. This didn't turn out exactly how I planned, but I think I like it. I originally intended to write a short and dirty little smut scene that quickly turned into a rather drawn out hurt/comfort and weird sex affair. Oh well! All aboard the rare-ship! TOOT TOOT!
> 
> This fic gets a massive TW for dubious consent. While everything that happens is agreed to and discussed (albeit hastily), there is a drawn out sex scene, during which Clint allows Wanda to have full control of his body. There is also mention of blood and past serious injuries and deaths, as well as PTSD and flashbacks.
> 
> The fic and chapter titles take their names from Prospero's speech in Shakespeare's "The Tempest."
> 
> Many thanks to KaminaDuck for beta reading.
> 
> And thank you for reading! Feedback is always appreciated!

After Tony's huge bash at the old Avengers Tower ended with Ultron revealing himself and trying to slaughter the remaining guests, no one was too keen on having a lavish party to break in the new Avengers Facility. Still, it seemed a shame not to celebrate their new digs at least a little. Especially since they'd also just beaten Ultron and his army of death-bots. So the team compromised, and agreed that a low key barbeque was just the thing. 

Now that his true rustic colors had been shown, Clint saw to the slow cooking of an entire pig in a smoker he'd rigged up from 55 gallon drums and scrap metal. The rest of the crew whipped together side dishes in the giant communal kitchen. Even Natasha. Clint was fairly certain he had never seen her cook, outside of that op several years back that had them both posing as kitchen staff in a restaurant in Paris. But somehow, she'd managed to conjure a batch of beautifully frosted cupcakes, leaving Clint to wonder if she had taught herself to bake, or if there was a home-ec class in the Red Room. Both were equally amusing thoughts.

As the blazing light of late afternoon slowly bowed to the soft golden glow of evening, the residents of the facility broke off into little groups scattered around the common area. Everyone talking, and still grazing on the buffet. But as Clint surveyed his companions, he noticed that someone was missing. He looked up and found Wanda leaning over the balcony rail, head cocked so her hair fell in a lush auburn wave over one shoulder. Her lips were parted and her eyes were distant as she stared down at her fellow Avengers. She immediately saw Clint looking and dropped her gaze to the carpeted floor twenty feet beneath her.

Clint felt other eyes on him and he turned. Natasha's gaze flickered over to him when she knew no one was looking. Once she caught his eye, she almost imperceptibly jerked her chin towards the balcony before animatedly returning to her conversation with Steve.

Clint backed slowly towards the stairs, not wanting to draw attention, before he scampered up to the second floor. Wanda wasn't looking at him as he made the landing. Her eyes had returned to scanning their fellows below as Clint slowly approached.

“I can see why you like it up here.” she said when he was in earshot.

“And why is that?” he asked, leaning on the balcony rail beside her. She didn't fail to notice that he left a solid arm's length of space between them.

She gave a small shrug. “Perspective.” she answered simply, her accent curling around the word like a snake. “You can see it all in context. Up close, what amounts to small details can become the entirety of your view. One person. One conversation. One interaction. But from here... they're all like little gears in a watch. And you can't tell what time it is if you're only staring at one gear.”

“Are you...” Clint faltered, frowning.

“Reading their minds?”

“Yeah.”

“I can see their thoughts, yes.” Wanda inclined her head.

“Seems kind of invasive...”

“It is not as if I can choose not to. Can you choose not see? No. But you can choose not to look. It is rude to stare no matter what you use to see. I can see everything, but I do my best to try not to stare too hard. But I cannot shut it out completely without focusing on that and nothing else.”

“Can you... see...” He let the sentence trail off, looking to her imploringly.

“Go on.”

“You aren't going to finish my sentence? You can read my mind.”

“Interrupting is rude, too.” she replied with a diplomatic smile.

He swallowed hard. She was going to make him say it. “You can see everything? Even what... Loki did? Made me do?”

“I could see that, yes.” she answered. “I could see every second of it if I wished, and you could not hide it from me. And I can see why that makes you... wary around me to say the least. I certainly don't blame you. Not only can I see what Loki did, I could replicate it. And I don't need the Mind Stone in some alien scepter to do twice the damage he did. Or more.” Clint swallowed audibly as she moved a step closer. “But I will never do it to you. You have my word. Reading your mind, your thoughts when they drift through your head. That I can't help, but I will ignore what I can just like I do for everyone.”

“Could you read my mind right now? Like, if I asked you to do it, would you?”

“Yes, but I don't need to. You want something from me and you're frightened by your curiosity.”

“How do you know that if you're not reading my mind?”

“Because we are having this conversation.” she answered simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “If you were truly and totally afraid you would be on the other side of the room from me. Like Dr. Banner is right now.”

Clint glanced down, quickly spying the doctor. Sure enough he was on the absolute opposite side of the room from Wanda, one shoulder angled away from her. “Banner's afraid of you?” Clint asked, turning back towards her.

“He's afraid of anyone who has more control of the monster than he does.” she answered with a small matter of fact shrug. “There aren't many who trust me right now, and with good reason given the past week or so. That man Fury does but only because his desire for my abilities blinds his sense. He hasn't seen what you all have.”

“Who else?”

“Ironically enough, Agent Romanoff.” she said with a tiny frown. “Though I cannot see why.”

“I thought you could read minds.”

“I can know what people are thinking. But I cannot know what they do not know themselves. Not easily anyway.”

“Like how my curiosity frightens me.” he offered by example.

“Yes. Knowing that is a simple matter. I know that your curiosity frightens you is because you still have not actually asked me the question you most want to.”

Clint looked at her for a hard minute. “What's it like?” he finally asked.

A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “Well played, but that is not the question. Still, would you like me to tell you, or do you want to see?”

“You can let me see?”

“I can show you.”

“How do I know you aren't lying?”

“You trust me.” she replied flatly.

“Do I now?” Clint arched an eyebrow.

“Some part of you does or we wouldn't be having this conversation. You would be sharing the wall with Dr. Banner. You are not so afraid of me that it overrides your desire to know yourself better.”

Clint regarded her for a long time after she made that statement. Almost long enough that he thought he might walk away, despite the fact that she was absolutely right. But of course, she knew he wouldn't so she waited with cat-like stillness.

“Fine. Show me.” he said with a huff that was a little harsher than he intended.

“Turn and face the room” she told him, and when he did she placed her hand on the nape of his neck. Just the barest touch of her fingers curling into the fine hair above his collar, but it still made him jump. “Just relax and don't fight me. I will be easy with you.”

He rotated his shoulders a little to try and relieve the tension but to no avail. He settled for a deep breath that he puffed out through pursed lips before nodding to her.

“Look over at Captain Rogers.” she instructed, gently turning to where he stood talking to Rhodes and Thor. He had a far away look in his eye as Rhodes told an animated story about who knew...

“What about a crane?” The words... Rogers's voice drifted through Clint's head, making him jump again. “What if it doesn't work if a person is driving the crane, but it does work if it's... like one of Tony's automated gadgets. Is... Is Jarvis worthy? Is that even a-”

Clint laughed in spite of himself. “He's still on about that isn't he?”

“He has been ever since Vision picked up the Hammer.” Wanda replied with an amused smirk. It took Clint a second to realize that her mouth wasn't moving and he immediately felt every hair stand on end. “Easy.” she whispered through his thoughts. “Your mind is still your own.” Clint took several long deep breaths as he regarded Wanda with completely unmasked fear. “Do you want me to stop?” she asked, actually speaking this time.

“I...” Clint cast his eyes around the room, taking another shuddering breath. “Show me someone else.” he whispered faintly.

She gave a small nod, adjusted her hand on the nape of his neck turning him towards Darcy, who was licking the frosting off of a cupcake while unabashedly staring at Steve. “Jesus Christ...” Darcy's voice drifted through Clint's mind. “He's even prettier in person. And I thought no one was prettier than Thor. He's probably gay though. Has to be. A mouth that pretty? It would be like... a crime against all nature if he didn't like to suck-”

Clint doubled over with laughter. “Oh my God.” he groaned. “That's really what she's thinking?”

“I swear it.” Wanda replied, her voice whispering sweetly in Clint's mind. He was prepared for it this time, and managed not to jump. “When she first met Captain Rogers, her... thoughts lets call them, were screaming so loud I had to excuse myself or start laughing uncontrollably.”

“That has to be inconvenient.” Clint said, looking over with an actual smile.

“It is, sometimes.” Wanda nodded, staring out at the room, her own smile fading at the edges. “I can hear them all right now. There is... a lot of pain to go around. And precious little joy. And I don't know how to help.”

“You've been in all their heads?”

“All but yours. I never got the chance. Not like I did with them.” she gave him a sidelong smile as she removed her hand from his neck.

“No hard feelings?” he shrugged.

“Of course not, Agent Barton.” she assured him, giving his arm a gentle nudge with her elbow.

A long silence stretched out between them as they regarded their teammates from above.

“Is that all you wanted to see, Agent Barton?” she asked, actually speaking this time. “Just a little voyeuristic party trick?”

He didn't answer right away, eyes focused down at an empty spot on one of the sofas.

“What would you have shown me?” he asked finally. “If I hadn't...”

“Do you really want me to take a close enough look to know?”

“I feel like someone should.” he shuffled nervously.

She nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. “But not here. Come.” She held out a hand, her thicket of metal bracelets chiming pleasantly.

He took a deep breath, threaded his fingers through hers, and let himself be lead up to her quarters.

***

 

The trappings of Wanda's room were sparse outside of the furniture that came standard in every room. This was not strange unto itself. Neither she nor Pietro had really had much in the way of personal effects when they'd defected from Ultron. But the white canvas of her room was shot with small bits of bright color. Memorabilia from a life long gone. Crinkled photographs tucked in the mirror frame. Vivid scraps of clothing draped over hangers. Books with brightly colored dust jackets. Those last were new. When she found out she could stock her room with anything she wanted, before bedding or clothes or toiletries, she had presented the requisitions officer on base with a book list. Tony had spared no expense in finding her the finest hardcover, sometimes leather bound editions of everything. To everyone's shock, he strangely doted on Wanda, albeit distantly. No one was quite sure if he was reassuring her or himself. Only the two of them knew for sure.

“Come.” she whispered, pulling Clint across the threshold to sit on her bed, which was covered in a threadbare rag quilt. She let go of his hand to close the door before joining him. “Tell me again what it is that you want, Clint.” she asked, sitting beside him and fixing him with a pointed stare.

He swallowed thickly, expecting her eyes to flash to red at any moment, but for the moment they stayed their soft jade green. “I want to know my weakness.” he answered. “I just... what would you pick to use against me.”

“Why do you want to know?” she asked gently, cocking her head.

“I just... I don't like not knowing my weak points.” He answered, jaw tight and eyes averted.

Wanda reached out, lifting his chin on a crooked finger and forcing him to meet her gaze. “I don't like being the only one that knows them.” she said, her words laying heavily in the air. “You lot hide your pain... from yourselves. From each other. You call yourselves a team. You trust your lives to one another, but you don't trust your... selves to each other. Not really.”

Clint nodded stiffly. With the exception of maybe himself and Natasha, he couldn't argue with that. And even then... he hadn't talked to her about Loki. Not after their initial conversation in the medical ward on the helicarrier. And he was certain there were things that happened in the Red Room that she had never told a soul.

“Did you know that every single member of the Avengers suffers from PTSD?” Wanda asked him. “All of them. Except the Vision, of course.”

“Even you?”

“I spent two days in a crumbling apartment with an unexploded mortar shell three inches from my face.” she responded flatly. “Yes.”

Clint swallowed again. “So... so what? You think we need a shrink?”

“I think you need each other.” she replied. “So here is my bargain. I will show you what you seek, but only if you share it with someone. I don't care who. Natasha. Sam. Someone. Deal?”

“Deal.” Clint affirmed.

Wanda took a long breath, fixing him with an appraising stare. “Lie back.” she said after a long silence. “And try to relax.”

Clint pulled off his leather jacket and reclined across the quilt. “Should I clear my mind, or some zen shit like that?”

“If it helps you feel more relaxed. But I'll see that it won't be clear for long.” she answered, crawling around on the bed so that her knees bracketed his temples. “Just do not fight what comes into your head. It will mean I have to contest you and that will be unpleasant.”

“I'll try.” It was the best he could promise, and she seemed satisfied. “Should I close my eyes?”

“If you want.” she answered, placing her palms over his temples. “Just relax.”

Clint sucked in a deep breath as a red haze clouded over his vision, clearing a second later to reveal Laura with the kids. She stood in their kitchen, smiling, the sunlight playing on her dark hair. She looked just as he had last seen her, baby bump and all. Every detail was in place. The way her hair framed her face. How her eyes crinkled when she smiled. Even the scar on Cooper's forehead where he'd taken that header into the corner of the coffee table. All touches stolen unknowingly from his memories. Clint felt himself tense, fearing he was about to witness their bloody demise, but he only heard Wanda laugh, a creeping sound that crawled across his brain like ivy.

“You really think this is the best I can do?” she seemed to sneer at him from the ether of the vision. “You do not fear for what might happen as much as you fear what already has.”

Laura and his children dissolved into curls of red smoke and in their place the image of Phil materialized. He was slumped against a metal wall, blood pouring in a river from a yawning chest wound. Clint could hear the wet sucking sound of his lungs trying fruitlessly to pull in air and it made him grimace.

“You went and watched the security footage?” Wanda asked.

“I... I needed to see.”

“You needed to suffer.” she corrected bluntly. “You did not do this.”

“I... know.”

“But you do not believe it. And that's why I'm showing it to you.”

“So this is it?” he asked, his voice clipped and tight.

“Oh no.” Clint could feel her wicked smile curling across his mind. “This is a fresh wound. I can find older ones. No doubt made deeper with time.”

Phil's slumped body faded away into the red haze, to be swiftly replaced with an image of Natasha. It was a vision of her that haunted him almost daily even without Wanda's help. But there it was, more vivid and startling than ever. Natasha was crouched, covered in a dozen shallow weeping cuts, a knife clutched in her hand so tightly her knuckles stood out bone-white under her skin. “Why haven't you killed me yet?” she snarled, her accent standing out on the words like thorns.

“I did fear for my life here.” Clint commented, as he watched, trying to keep his voice impassive.

“But you do not fear it.” Wanda stated.

“So why show it to me?”

“Because you think you fear it.” Wanda answered. “You think you fear all these things. You focus on specifics. Laura dying because your work followed you home. Coulson's death... at your hands you still think. The understanding that you were but a hair's breadth from killing your Natasha. Who you cannot do without now.”

Clint whined and thought he squeezed his eyes shut, but the haze grew hotter. Thicker. Brighter.

“Stop fighting me, Clint.” Wanda chided, her once supple and whispery voice booming in his ears. “Stop fighting and let me show you. Or tell me to stop.”

Clint took a breath so deep that it shook his ribs. He could feel scalding tears escaping his pinched eyes. Fear clawed at his gut, cold and sharp as he forced himself to nod.

“Then here is what you fear.” she whispered, and his scarlet vision was quickly shot to blue.

He thought he heard himself scream in shock. Panic overwhelmed him as the paralysis set in. He remembered this. Being shoved aside and down as someone else took his bow and his brain and puppeted his body around like he was a marionette. Making him do... what...

“Yes. Making you do what?” Wanda parroted.

Clint shook his head, more tears falling. “I don't know.” he moaned brokenly. 

Just as quickly as it began, the fiery blue haze faded to soft scarlet again, hovering just on the edge of his vision. Wanda's face loomed above him, her soft gaze tinged red which was oddly comforting after the blue fire that had engulfed him a moment earlier. “Exactly. You don't know and it doesn't matter.” her voice still echoed in his mind, now soft like fleece as she caressed his cheek. “Because you are a good person, Clint. Your goodness is what you don't want taken from you. You've experienced that. And you know that your goodness... your innate desire to help is the knife edge on which your heroism balances. To steal that is to steal “Hawkeye” away from you. It is to steal S.H.I.E.L.D., your family... even Natasha away from you. And what's more, you've seen it happen to others... Natasha, Tony... even me.”

Clint reached up and touched Wanda's face, feeling her hair tickle the back of his fingers. “You didn't mean...” he whispered brokenly, but he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. How could he tell her that when he couldn't believe it about himself?

She smiled at him, gently cupping his hand against her cheek. “None of you did. But it's such a fine line. And you know first hand that there are forces that can not only seduce you across that line, but that can tie an anchor to you and throw you irredeemably behind that line.” She caressed his brow. “I am one of those things.”

Clint wanted to disagree but he knew she was right. This display proved it, so he swallowed and said lightly, “That has to come in handy for something.”

She laughed, a warm sound that melted the ice in the room. “I suppose.”

“You suppose?” he scoffed, wiping his eyes on his shirt and sitting up. “Come on. You have to have done some really... no sorry. That's rude.”

“Too late.” she chided with a smile.

“Right.” he replied. “With the... mind reading thing. You're... you're still in here.” He tapped his temple with a fingertip.

“No, but you think really loud.”

“I'll... work on that.”

“Don't.” she was still smiling. “It's part of what makes you who you are.”

He couldn't help but smile back, but he couldn't bring himself to look at her. Or to leave.

“Can I... show you something else? Something beautiful?” she asked. “I can do that too you know? Show you beautiful things and places.”

“Like... like what?”

“What about Sokovia before the war? Would you like to see where I come from?”

Clint swallowed again and nodded dumbly.

“Close your eyes.” her voice whispered through his mind as she reached out to cup his cheek.

He did so as the red haze returned to seep across his vision. He found that he was more at ease this time as Wanda's power pulled him under its sway. Clint heard the scene before he saw it; the chattering sounds of a milling crowd twined with gently drifting music. When the haze cleared he saw he was in an open air market in the shadow of the giant cathedral in the center of Sokovia. He felt the chill of the air seep into his skin, but the sun shone brightly and the twisted trees that dotted the square were bowed with pale pink flowers.

Clint turned and found himself stumbling through the image of a little girl, not much older than Lila with burnished red hair and bright green eyes. She stood gazing up unblinkingly at the rose window of the church, head cocked at a familiar angle. Clint circled around her when he saw she paid him no mind.

“Is this...”

“Me. I think I was seven.” Wanda had materialized beside Clint, her face caught in a wistful smile as she gazed down at her younger self. “This is the first market of spring. It was still cold at this time that year. They used to have these every Saturday, starting as soon as it turned warm and going all the way until the first snow.”

“Is this before you had your powers?”

“Before I had them the way you know them.” she answered, scuffing her feet on the paving stones and sucking in a perfumed breath. “I was always a perceptive child. People just thought I was an old soul, but in truth... in truth if I really concentrated I could get flashes of people's thoughts and feelings. Particularly if they were lying.”

“Did your parents know?”

She shook her head, sending her tresses twisting in a biting gust of wind. “Just Pietro.” she said, her brother's name falling from her lips like the first raindrop of a winter storm.

As if on cue, a boy the same age as the girl came trotting up. He tangled his fingers in hers and pulled her physically out of her reverie, smiling at her from under a mangy fringe of blond hair. “Wanda! Wanda! Papa said we could have babka from Olaf's bakery. Come on before he changes his mind.” He pulled at her hand again and then took off across the cobblestones, with his sister scrambling to keep up with him.

Clint watched the children disappear into the crowded market before he turned to Wanda. The smile she wore clawed at Clint's heart.

“I only ever told Pietro. Even... even when we went to HYDRA. I never told them everything I could do. But I showed it to him. This... this was where he would always ask me to send him.”

“You used your powers on him?”

“Sometimes he would ask. He wanted to see home. Our parents. I've... I've never shown this to anyone else.” Her voice trailed off into nothing. She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe I need a little of my own medicine.”

Clint felt like his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. It took him several attempts to finally wet his mouth enough to speak, though he still didn't know what to say. “What... what do you like to see?” he asked. It was the first thing that came to mind.

“Would you like me to show you?”

He nodded, feeling dumb for having nothing more to say.

Wanda reached out and took his hand as the scarlet haze curled around both of them once more. Clint felt dizzy this time. Like he was suddenly off balance. The haze didn't immediately clear the way it had before, and it took him a moment to realize that Wanda had them lying on their backs on a grassy hilltop, with a brilliant, sunset-washed sky overhead. He sat up and blinked hard. He could see the city of Sokovia and the castle beyond down below them, washed in the rosy glow of evening. A warm balmy breeze blew in his face, stirring the field of black-eyed-susans that surrounded him.

“This is where I like to go.” Wanda said, sitting up as well, but not untangling her hand from his. “It's not real, this hill top. It doesn't actually exist.”

“But it's beautiful.” Clint sighed, looking over at her. The ruddy sunlight reflected pallidly in her green eyes, casting them in a lovely honeyed amber. “Thank you for showing me this.”

“You aren't the only one with hidden pain, Clint.” she said, her lips twitching into a sad smile. “Will... will you stay here with me awhile?” she asked.

Clint nodded, not trusting his ability to keep his voice from cracking at the sight of her sorrow. He laid back into the soft, whispering grass, and pulled her with him. She draped herself limply across his chest, pillowing her head on his shoulder and curling his arms around her. As the blazing sunset cooled into the dark of night, the host of twinkling stars faded into view, seeming to hang low over them like a mobile in a baby's crib. Clint watched them for awhile and then, thinking that Wanda had fallen asleep, he pressed a kiss into her hair. He was surprised when he felt her smile against his chest.

***


	2. And our little life is rounded with a sleep...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very much NSFW, and also as a reminder it contains material that falls under the heading of dubious consent. While all the mind control is discussed and agreed to, it's still mind control.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you've enjoyed my foray into weird sex.

Clint wasn't sure how long they dozed in Wanda's dreamworld. His eyes had drifted closed several times and when he'd opened them again, he would find that the sky above had changed. He couldn't be sure if this was time passing, or if Wanda's dream-soaked whim was rearranging the stars, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The heavy weight of her arm across his chest, and the even sound of her breathing felt like an anchor, keeping him both present and completely at ease.

After awhile he opened his eyes to see the white paneled ceiling of her room over them. As he blinked through this realization, he felt her suck in a long deep breath and stir beside him. At first he thought she might get up, and he realized rather belatedly that he didn't want her to. 

She looked up at him as that thought crawled clumsily through his brain. “I won't move if you don't want me to.” She said, her voice thick with sleep. She wound her arm tightly around his ribs with another heaving breath, before she relaxed against him

As true wakefulness washed over Clint, he realized much too belatedly that he was hard, tenting his jeans at a surprisingly sharp angle. He immediately tried to quash the realization as his cheeks flushed, but it was too late. He felt Wanda smile against his t-shirt. “Sorry.” he grumbled, not sure what to say.

“Don't be. I'm not embarrassed.” she answered, propping her chin on his chest and looking up at him with drowsy eyes. “You lot... even though you hide your pain, you certainly see enough of each other after dark.”

“I suppose so.” Clint answered, swiping a hand across his face as he tried to choke down the tide of arousal creeping over him.

Wanda laughed a little, tracing a red enameled fingernail down his breast bone. “Jane and Thor. Tony and Rhodes. You and Natasha. Darcy and any lab technician that holds still long enough.” 

Clint couldn't hold back a laugh at that. “I suppose you know about all of it.”

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Goes with the territory.”

“I just suppose that me getting riled up was not exactly in your plan?”

“Not my plan, no.” she inclined her head. “But...” she licked her lips and watched him closely. “I... it's not a bad thing. Is... is it for you? Would it be, I mean?”

Clint regarded her for a long moment. “Not if it isn't for you, I guess.”

Wanda levered herself up a little, her hair falling over her shoulder to tickle the side of Clint's neck as she leaned down for a kiss. She moved slowly, her lips just barely brushing over his. Clint could feel her probing around on the surface of his mind for the barest hint of disapproval. He passively let her press their mouths together before he gave in and began clutching her against him. When she felt his hands on her back, she twisted to drape herself over him as her tongue licked lazily between his parted lips.

“Do you really want this?” Clint asked when she pulled back to kiss a trail along his jaw. “Me, I mean?”

“Yes.” She breathed against his neck, making him shiver. Then she pulled back to look him in the eye. “What about you?”

“Can't you read my mind?”

“I'd rather hear you say it.”

He leaned forward, capturing her luscious mouth in his for a moment before breathing the word “Yes.” against her parted lips.

His affirmation was rewarded by Wanda swinging her leg over his waist and pulling herself into a straddle across his hips. She grabbed the hem of her blouse and pulled it off in a fluid flurry of sheer ruffles. Apparently she hadn't been wearing a bra, and Clint could only gape for a moment before his brain finally got a message to his body that he should touch her. He dragged his callused hands over her milk white skin to cup under the curve of her breasts. They were unbelievably soft under his fingers, and her nipples rose to full attention as he gently rolled them under his thumbs.

Wanda arched into his hands, making soft, breathy sounds that made Clint's head swim in ways that had nothing to do with her powers. She took one of his hands in her two smaller ones, curious fingers tracing over bone white scars and curiously shaped callouses before being replaced by her lips. She just gave tender kisses at first, but it wasn't long before her clever tongue was working around each digit, drawing them each into her warm, willing mouth in turn. As she explored, her hips swayed and twisted over his groin making him grow impossibly hard.

“How do you want me?” she purred, still running her lips over his hand.

“You want me to tell you?” he asked, voice rough with arousal. “Or do you want to look for yourself.”

She took a long steadying breath before her eyes filled with a familiar shifting red light. Clint gasped as he felt her power wash over him. A thousand thoughts and scenarios rattled through his mind as if she were thumbing through a deck of cards. And he knew she was seeing all of them, but he couldn't bring himself to care. But then she found the one... Her on top of him, her pussy greedily sinking down over his cock. He could see it. Feel it. Taste her on his tongue where he had eaten her out only moments before... 

“I could make you come like this, you know.” she taunted as he came back to himself, though he realized that she was holding that sensation in his body. Forcing him to feel what he imagined the wet slip of her pussy would feel like on his achingly hard cock. “I could make you come, completely untouched. Or make you last for hours, until you're begging me for an orgasm.”

He stared up at her dumbfounded. He should be afraid. He should be so afraid of what she could do to him. And yet... “But you want me.” he replied, his voice dull and rough with desire.

She smirked at him wickedly. “I do.” she answered as she stripped his shirt off. “And you want to eat me out. Lets see if you're better than your own imagination.” She rolled onto her back, scooting up towards the pillows with Clint eagerly following, dexterous hands already working at removing her pants. She shimmied out of them before dragging him up for a crushing kiss that was more teeth than lips. His hands wandered, learning the curve of her hips and the arch of her back. He nibbled his way down her throat and over her collarbone to drag his tongue over one of her nipples. Wanda moaned, rolling her entire body against his as he laved his tongue over her breast, eventually replacing it with gentle scrapes of his teeth all along its ample curve. 

Then he began to move downward, planting a line of shivery bites over the unbelievably soft skin of her stomach until he reached the russet tangle of her pubic hair. He tugged her hips up to give him better access, reveling in the warm scent of her already damp pussy. He had wanted to make a snide remark... something about having a taste for redheads, but he just couldn't bring himself to wait even that long to taste her. She was probably listening to his thoughts anyway...

So he pulled her thighs down over his shoulders and dipped his tongue into the warm cleft of her pussy. A long, slow drag from bottom to top with a lingering pause over her clit that made her moan and swear in Russian. He licked at her clit again, and again, like a kitten lapping at a saucer of milk. He teased her mercilessly, laving his tongue around her hot, dripping slit, meandering away to kiss along her thighs. Wanda's moaning and swearing grew louder until she dug her nails into his shoulders and wailed in frustration.

“I knew you would be a tease, Clint Barton.” 

“I'm sure you did.” he answered before dragging another wet lick along the seam of her. “Forgive me, I didn't really feel like rushing.”

She let out a plaintive moan high in her throat, still clutching at his shoulders. “Please...”

“Please what?” he teased, biting the inside of her thigh and making her yelp.

“I want to come. God, fuck... please...”

“How do you want to come?”

“Your... your...” her voice failed her as his thoughts trickled across her vision. When she saw what he was intending, she froze. “You want me... to use you?” she asked, completely disbelieving. She grabbed his shoulders and hauled him up to eye level.“You want me to take control of you and-” she stopped herself short. “Are you... you were terrified of me just a few hours ago. Part of you still is. Are you sure?”

He gave her a ducking nod. “Unless you don't want-”

“No, I want.” she assured him with an amused smile. “I can make it so so good. But I need you to be sure.”

“I'm sure.”

She nodded, glancing away for a second to collect her thoughts. “I will leave you enough of yourself to communicate with me. And in turn it will let me feel what you want.” she paused and licked her lips. “You... you're trusting me with a lot.”

Clint just leaned down and kissed her, not really feeling the need to reply. He could already feel the scarlet tendrils of her power crawling through his mind.

“Are you ready?” her voice whispered through his head before he broke the kiss.

He couldn't repress a shiver as he dropped his forehead onto her chest. He took a deep breath, concentrating on the feeling of her hands skating over his back. Already his lungs felt numb to the air rushing in. He nodded, still face down against her skin. This was what he wanted.

Wanda's power fell over him in a crushing wave. Even though he had braced for it, the air was still knocked out of his lungs. He felt beautifully numb, as if he were floating in warm, still water. Clint could feel her power crawling over his skin, through his bones, everywhere... Where Loki's magic had burned and twisted, her power felt like a deep, comforting pressure. He found himself looking down into her face, into her pale eyes which were now shot with blood red light. He could barely remember anything other than the slow drag of her mind over his... the taste of her cunt... the ache of his cock in his suddenly far too tight pants...

He should be terrified, he found himself thinking again. His consciousness flailed for hers and he found it... a patient, even presence. “Do you want me to stop?” she asked.

“No.” he wasn't sure if he actually managed to whisper it aloud.

“Then relax. You're still fighting me.” she told him, as she caressed his shoulders. He could feel that, he realized. It was as if he didn't exist except where she was touching him. “Let me show you what we look like together.”

Clint sucked in another distant breath and forced himself to relax. He could see suddenly, not just her beautiful face but he could see himself through her eyes. The dumbfounded look on his face, and her power burning scarlet in his eyes. He could feel the sweet ache of his cock mixed with the slow smolder of her desire.

“You're going to lick me out until I come,” her voice dragged through his mind like silk over skin. “And then I'm going to have you fuck me.” 

Clint would have nodded if he could, but instead he felt himself crawling back down her body to bury his face in the flushed folds of her pussy. He belatedly realized that she wasn't asking for permission now. She was just informing him. Just a simple courtesy. Where he had teased and tormented, she had him using long bold strokes of his tongue, delving deep into her body. She shuddered with each lick, arching and undulating on the bed, carding her fingers through his hair. Not directing or encouraging. She needed none of that. Just feeling. Her whole body had become a single writhing nerve.

He knew exactly what she was feeling. Every shiver, jolt, and sigh slid across his consciousness in tandem with his own sensations. The taste of her slick, the warmth of her skin under his hands... it all carried him along like a current. He could feel her climax building with each suckling thrust of his tongue. As she got closer he felt himself shift, running his tongue in short lapping strokes over her clit until he heard her moan. “God, I'm so close...” She was using him. Each swipe of his tongue was perfect for her, leading one into the other along the inexorable path to her orgasm. He could see out of the corner of his eye that she was playing with her breasts, teasing and rolling her nipples as she writhed on the sheets. Clint wanted to touch her there but his arms were locked down around her hips.

“Uh uh...” she chided, grinning down at him, “Can't let you have all the fun.”

That sent a bolt of white hot arousal slicing through the numbing red haze in Clint's mind. Wanda caught it and let it carry her over the edge with a long, breathy moan. She sank back against the mattress, shaking and panting as she dragged Clint back up to her face. He licked at her breasts, unsure and completely uncaring if it was his idea or hers. He just reveled in the taste of her skin, blushed to a beautiful pink from her orgasm. It made Clint all the more painfully aware of his throbbing cock, still untouched and trapped in his jeans. 

He heard a whisper of fabric and was vaguely aware that his pants were slithering their way down his body. He looked up at Wanda, her mouth bent into a wicked smirk, and he actually laughed. He felt himself moving, being arranged onto his back, his cock bobbing and bouncing as he shifted. She already had him under her full control. Did she just want to be on top?

“I think you wanted me on top.” she whispered as moved to straddle him. She slid a hand down over his pulsing shaft, her smirk crinkling the corner of her eyes as he arched unwillingly off the bed. “I want to see if I can do better than your fantasies.”

“To be fair, you're cheating.” Clint thought, not even bothering to try to speak.

“You're the one that wanted me to.”

“Fair enough.” He might have said more, but she gave his leaking cock a slow pump which made his entire brain short circuit. He collapsed back onto the bed as she lined him up against her entrance and let herself slide down in one smooth motion. Clint saw his vision white out and for a fearful second he was certain that he was going to come just from that. He heard Wanda's laughter again, tickling across his brain like plush velvet.

“Oh Clint...” she whispered into his mind. “I have control over that, too. I can hold you at the breaking point until you weep.”

He felt himself huff out a laugh that quickly morphed into an ecstatic groan as her hips began a serpentine roll over his, dragging herself over his aching cock with delicious friction. He could only hang there in the red tinged fog, feeling each thrust and twist and tease seemingly magnified a hundred fold. He could see her moving over him, one hand on her breast, the other knit into her hair. He could feel what she felt, the hot stretch of his cock inside her, and her hands where his hands would be if he could touch her. But he couldn't. He could only lie there and just be. Just be for her...

This was definitely better than his fantasies.

She came again with a tiny little cry before she rolled them both. Thoughtlessly, Clint thrust into her, his hips unwittingly picking up a sinuous rhythm as her body coiled around him. He felt weightless again as he stared down at her. It felt like falling and the only anchor point was his cock lodged deep inside her. He heard himself groan. He could do that at least. She curled her fingers into his short hair and tugged him down for a languorous kiss. He could already feel the pressure of his own climax building hot and low in his hips. Part of him wanted to speed up and chase the inevitable white hot fire, and part of him wanted to slow his rhythm. To take a steadying breath in order to prolong this... to stretch it out...

But he found he could do no such thing on either count. He could only watch and feel as Wanda used him. His cock and his body and even his mind were tools for her right now. Just play things. He felt drunk with it. He would let her pleasure herself with him forever. And then wring him out like a rag. 

Wanda smiled up at him, smoothing her hands along the sides of his face. “Thank you for trusting me this much.” she said. “Do you want to come?”

“Please.” he breathed, somewhat amazed that he had the coherency and autonomy for even that one word.

“Do you want me to... let you do it yourself?”

He shook his head, clearly out of his quota of words.

“Then relax, and let me take care of you.” she said, pulling him down easily over her body. He belatedly realized he had stopped thrusting, but the scalding pressure in his cock had only increased. He moaned and tried to writhe and fidget but she was still holding him fast. “Relax.” she whispered again, her voice tickling his ear. 

Clint took a deep breath and felt himself go limp against her. He realized he could feel everything. He could feel her body around him, and his body inside of her. The touch of her hands and the feel of his skin. He could even hear their pulses, fluttering like caged birds. The white hot wave of pleasure that she had so carefully crafted and then held at bay was suddenly crashing over him, flooding every inch of his body with tingling and almost unbearable force. He might have screamed but he couldn't be sure. The only sound he cared about were their own thundering heartbeats and the moan torn from Wanda's lips as she let herself be caught up in the same rush.

Slowly, Clint's vision cleared. He became aware of his lungs first as they desperately pulled in air. Then the chill of his sweat-drenched skin. He pressed himself up, suddenly realizing he had collapsed onto Wanda. He blinked several times, reaching out for her presence but not finding more than the thinnest tendril of scarlet vapor. He tried to wet his mouth and speak but he could neither find the words nor make his mouth cooperate.

Wanda smiled up at him, reaching out to caress his cheek. He leaned into the touch, kissing her palm and returning her smile, before clumsily flopping onto the bed beside her. They both lay there for a moment, their breathing slowing and their heart rates returning to normal. Then, almost at the same moment, they turned to look at each other.

And they laughed.

It was the laugh of the utterly spent and exhausted. And the laugh of the truly satisfied. Clint tried again to think of something to say, but still came up short. Any thing would be trite, or unnecessary. So instead he just wound his arms around her, feeling with great satisfaction as she sagged against him, one leg draped lazily over his. He kissed the top of her head as he felt her body go slack in his arms.

He had vivid and beautiful dreams. He wasn't sure if it was the literally mind blowing sex or if Wanda was supplying him with some lovely fanciful vision. The only thing he was sure of was that once again, he didn't care which.

***


End file.
